


Eye of the Beholder

by PriorityNaps



Category: Gintama
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Body Worship, Crossdressing, Fluff, GinHijiGinWeek2020, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PriorityNaps/pseuds/PriorityNaps
Summary: Hijikata makes arrangements for Gintoki's birthday. It doesn't go as planned.(But in a good way.)
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47
Collections: GinHijiGin Week 2020





	Eye of the Beholder

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot of max 13-14k, but that didn't end up happening and I'm making it a two-shot. 
> 
> I really wanted to join Gintoki's B-day Bash event but couldn't, though I still managed to do something!! Thank you so much to the people who organized the event, and to everyone else who participated!! It was really cool to see so many wonderfully amazing works being posted, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who enjoyed it to the fullest.

Today feels different, and Hijikata _knows_ why it feels different. 

He’d awoken like he always did a little while after dawn when he could still hear birds in the barrack’s courtyard. The sun was barely up but the sky was a pretty color, tinged with orange and pink at the horizon. Sometimes, when Hijikata doesn’t sleep well, he’d make an effort to watch the sunrise before he got to work. He finds peace in it.

Did he sleep well last night? Not really. But he hadn’t stuck around after he woke up either. He’s feeling tense, on edge. And there’s no genuine reason for him to be this way; he could back out of all this without a problem and no one would know except himself. 

But dammit, he’s not backing out. Hijikata is a stubborn man, and usually when he’s set a goal for himself there is no way he wouldn’t try everything he can to achieve it. This whole situation is proof enough, and yeah, Hijikata mostly prefers to keep to himself, but it’s hard to do that right now. He’s completely inexperienced in what he’s planning on doing, but it’s too sensitive a topic for him to go around asking for advice.

Today is Gintoki’s birthday. Hijikata had bumped into him earlier in the week and they had a quick lunch together before they’d gone their separate ways. He felt a bit guilty for having not remembered the occasion but he wasn’t at all surprised with himself. Often he forgets the day of the week. Hell, he almost never knows what the time is! 

Anyway, Hijikata had thought about it while slurping away at that noodle stand beside Gintoki. _It_ being what he could do for his birthday. He knows Gintoki likely isn’t expecting anything from him and the same would go for Hijikata if it were the other way around, and they’re both comparatively fine with that. 

But! And there’s one huge but. 

Gintoki. Gintoki is the but. 

In retrospect, Hijikata would have anticipated it much sooner had he not been so caught up in other business. None of the hints Gintoki might have tossed his way were caught. If he was acting weird, no matter how obvious, that was also lost on Hijikata until it was too late. 

It’s kind of a funny story actually, mostly because Hijikata was not aware it was his birthday. He doesn’t care much for it, and he strongly believes he’s the only one who feels that way because when the dumb bastard had gone to Kondo-- _without telling him_ \-- and had requested a day off on Hijikata’s behalf, Kondo was all too willing to accept. 

Well, duh, Kondo’s always pushing him to take a break. But… but a heads-up would have been appreciated.

Unlike himself, who is not interested in such things in the least, Gintoki is a romantic to an arguably respectable degree. He hadn’t gone above and beyond with his surprise but Hijikata could tell right off the bat that his plans did require effort on his part.

Gintoki had taken him away before noon that day, on a little road trip to an area that had nostalgia hitting Hijikata like a tide. He’s not a fan of taking trips down certain memory lanes and he’s sure Gintoki would understand because he’s got his own inner demons-- maybe more than Hijikata does, he isn’t sure and probably never will be-- but he was a bit skeptical of the idea when the pair reached something like a grassy clearing semi-surrounded by woods that looked out onto a small lake. 

It was a nice rural place, aesthetically pleasing and great for an artistic personality. There were no streets nearby, no cars or buildings. Hijikata was perfectly content with just sitting on the grass and enjoying the view but Gintoki had insisted he join him in the water. 

Hijikata truly felt like a child that day, but for all the good reasons. He felt lighter, happier even, by the time the clouds were stained peach and purple and it was time to head back. He really enjoyed himself.

The day had ended at the Yorozuya. It was just the two of them, no one else around, not even that giant mutant dog, but it definitely didn’t top the day trip, no pun intended. 

So yeah. Enough about his birthday. 

Hijikata knows he won’t be able to do something at that level now since he had less than a week to plan and too little time on his hands regardless, _but_ he made sure to keep Gintoki’s feelings in his best interest every step of the way. He finds it easier to be sincere like that, but truthfully, he kind of feels like he’s playing dirty here. He’s low-key riding on the fact that Gintoki is either expecting something... super basic, sexy, or nothing at all from him (because one, he’s aware Hijikata isn’t half as much a sentimental person as he is, and two, he knows Hijikata has no special spot in his heart for occasions or celebrations). It’s happened before; whenever Hijikata miraculously remembers his birthday and asks Gintoki what he wants he mostly just gets either some weird, kinky bullshit joke or a shrug as a response.

Hijikata had booked a room in an upscale hotel in the downtown part of Edo. The place has Western-style architecture and furniture so it’s a touch more modern than what they both are used to. Plus, there’s a bar and buffet on the first floor, and that might be the only thing that would matter to Gintoki for at least a little while, the dumb glutton. 

Hijikata had considered heading to the hotel a bit earlier than the time he’d told Gintoki but eventually decided it was pointless. It isn’t like he’s going to toss rose petals everywhere or light candles. God, no, that is so not his style. Gintoki would be creeped out for sure. 

And yup, there it is. Hijikata is nervous, scared even, that he’ll weird Gintoki out. He’s stepping into unexplored territory in their relationship by doing… _this_ , and _urgh_ , it’s been gnawing at his insides and messing up his appetite all week. Perhaps the only factor still pushing him forward is the hope that Gintoki will appreciate his gift as much as Hijikata is wishing for him to but frankly, he isn’t feeling too confident about it. 

This is all so unlike him, and Hijikata hates how it’s making him feel. He’s supposed to be a firm individual! Objective! Cool-headed! 

Usually, when he’s agitated, he lets it all out through exercise or by doing paperwork, but neither of those did the trick this time. He’d easily blazed through at least two packs of cigs a day, which is a lot even by his own standards.

He shouldn’t be having the urge to get this all over with, but he is. He needs to take things slowly and carefully, especially because this is miles away from his tiny safe spot of a comfort zone. If he wants Gintoki to enjoy today to the max, then he has to do his part willingly, not by forcing himself out of consideration. Gintoki is going to notice if anything is off and that would surely turn things sour.

Hijikata is holed up in his room right now at his desk, in uniform save for the jacket and cravat, the sleeves of his button-down folded messily to his elbows. The weather isn’t particularly amazing today; the days have begun to get windier and chillier sometime mid-September and it’s only going to get colder from here on out. Hijikata admits he enjoys the fall because it isn’t oppressively hot nor is it freezing, but he hates how brief the season feels. It’ll be gone before he knows it, and those little chills he feels would turn into full-body shudders.

At present, however, he’s feeling clammy, hot all over as if he’s feverish. He’d had a nice breakfast some hours back but Hijikata repeatedly feels it rising up his throat and threatening to spill out. He has been sitting at his desk sorting through forms and the like to stay distracted but he’s feeling jittery; his legs are crossed but he keeps bouncing them unconsciously. He’s not scheduled to make rounds all of today but a walk does sound nice. Wonderful, in fact.

Hijikata tosses his pen down and scrubs his hands over his face, teeth grinding irritably.

Damn his stupid nerves! 

*

Evening rolls around the corner much quicker than Hijikata was hoping it to. He’d busied himself as much as he could and was able to leave the barracks for a while too to calm the fuck down. No result. 

He thinks it _would_ have worked was he not completely alone with his thoughts. But if he were to ask someone to accompany him it still might not have, because he’d be too deep into his garbled mess of a mind to dig his way out into reality.

But it’s time now. He’s actually going to leave for the hotel in a few minutes. Kondo knows this because Hijikata told him a day in advance, and he didn’t prod. He barely even reacted aside from a hearty grin and a “No need to apologize Toshi! I understand.” And Hijikata does not mean to read into things that mean nothing, but it was like... he knew something Hijikata didn’t.

Hijikata takes back what he’d said earlier about going to the hotel in advance. He doesn’t have to prepare the room itself but he does need time and, most importantly, privacy to get himself ready. It’s true that no one comes snooping around his room in general, let alone this time of the day, but he isn’t willing to take his chances with anyone or anything, especially that little shit of a captain. 

Hijikata has already gathered what he needs, which isn’t much. He and Gintoki will be staying the night so they’re both expected to pack accordingly. 

He doesn’t change out of his uniform. He often spends time alone with Gintoki while wearing it, a small reason being that the other likes having sex when Hijikata’s clothed in just his white dress shirt, buttons popped, and the garment slowly sliding off his glistening shoulders the more he moves around. It eventually gets uncomfortable because of how much he and Gintoki sweat when they fuck, but Hijikata will admit it sometimes is hot, when either one of them remains partially dressed. Usually it happens during a quickie, an impulsive need to see, touch, hold the other, or when they want to take their sweet time. 

Hijikata kneels over his duffel bag and gives the items inside a once-over, taking a deep breath as he runs his fingers over the spare button-down folded neatly amidst his other belongings. 

He has it placed on top, mostly to conceal what else is inside. It’s two or three sizes larger than his normal shirt, but that was the point. When he had tried it on to confirm its length he saw it reached a tad below his mid-thighs. The sleeves went past the wrist, ending almost at his fingertips. He would fold them properly when he changes into the shirt so they wouldn’t get in the way.

He runs a hand through his hair and takes another deep breath. He’s been doing that a lot this whole week, mostly today. A couple of officers had pointed it out to him and that alone left him bothered. He can’t stress enough how crucial it is that this whole… _thing_ be kept under wraps, something that only he knows about and _not_ just because of his pride being at stake dammit, but in a horribly ironic way Hijikata fears his anxiety over it is what could get him exposed. 

He stands up, lifting the duffel bag and slinging the strap over his shoulder. It feels way heavier than he knows it is. He slides open the shoji and steps out of his room.

No one is around. The courtyard is empty save for the small trees and bushes scattered along the edges. Hijikata can hear voices coming from other parts of the barracks but that’s about it. The area is quiet. Peacefully so, not in an eerie way, but it’s still unsettling.

As he walks down to the entrance of the barracks, a short breeze rustles Hijikata’s bangs and his nose wrinkles at the ticklish feeling. A small shudder takes hold of him and he can feel goosebumps breaking out over his shoulder blades. That feels a little ticklish, too.

It’s a Saturday afternoon nearing evening. It makes perfect sense that the outside is alive with casually-dressed people out to enjoy the mix of warm and cool air. The streets by HQ are not as crowded in comparison to Gintoki’s area. Shops are open and busy with patrons but none are conspicuous enough to draw Hijikata’s attention. There are not many bars or clubs here; those are further downtown where he’s headed and it’s easy to guess that they’re empty for the time being. It’s too early for drinks.

The walk to the hotel is both relaxing and nerve-wracking. While Hijikata does relish the crisp air on his face, nothing was able to take his mind off what he was soon to do. 

He and Gintoki have been together for well over a year and were very comfortable with one another. That did not, however, mean that the two had everything-- or even most things-- figured out. There had been a lot of testing-the-waters going on lately, ranging from what went on in the bedroom to public-related situations. 

Yeah, Gintoki didn’t care much, but these things mattered to Hijikata a lot more and the disparity forced them to start exploring boundaries. They were both rusty with relationships and had complicated lifestyles. Thus, it takes time to find stuff to discuss and whatnot, but it’s basically always Gintoki who initiates it. He’s the one presenting ideas, trying out things that appealed to him. 

Oftentimes Hijikata feels he isn’t treating what they’ve got going on as seriously as Gintoki is. It sounds wild, but such an idea can be proof of or lead to lack of commitment and interest. Gintoki has shown no sign that he believes Hijikata is taking on that mindset, but who the hell knows with that guy? He’s so frustratingly enigmatic and normally Hijikata wouldn't care, wouldn't give that a second thought, but... this relates to him. He has something to do with it. Oh, he most definitely does; it's bound to nag at him. 

So partially-- no, _mostly_ \-- this is what Hijikata meant when he was keeping Gintoki’s feelings in his best interest. A baseless assumption that’s nothing more than Hijikata’s paranoia at best. It’s unhealthy of him. 

No, he doesn’t _feel_ like he’s playing dirty, he _knows_ he is. 

Another breeze comes by, and it cools the dampness on Hijikata’s brow and neck that he didn’t know was there. He passes a hand through his hair and stops walking momentarily to switch shoulders with the duffel bag.

He reaches Kabukicho. The sun has sunk lower, but not low enough for shadows to stretch across the ground. There are a lot more people here. What if Gintoki is one of them? 

Hijikata walks faster. He isn’t completely familiar with the area the hotel is in. It’s an interesting place. A cafe shop catches his eye. 

Nothing garish or over-the-top, but it is more cheerful than the ones around it. It has striped cloth overhangs for the door and identical windows. There are fairy lights decorating the front, though they aren’t on yet because it isn’t dark enough. Posters are stuck on the windows advertising sweets and desserts. There’s seating inside. A lot. It’s not packed now but something tells Hijikata this might be a popular establishment. 

He stands there contemplating but it isn’t hard to come to a decision. He’s in and out of the cafe, not really believing what he’d done but feeling gratified nonetheless. 

There! He’d just updated his little plan for Gintoki’s birthday and is actually happy about it. 

He continues on his way, and the hotel comes into view. 

It’s six floors, juxtaposed by something that appears to be a bank. The many windows facing the front glitter and shine; the sun is facing directly opposite to the building. Hijikata’s heart leaps into his throat. He can feel something strange in his chest. That anxiety-inducing heaviness is still there and too discernible for it to escape his notice, but a tiny feeling of self-satisfaction accompanies it. Definitely not enough to counter how nervous he is, not by a long shot.

He reaches the hotel and heads inside. Its ambiance is friendly and comfortable. There are AC units lining the walls but only a couple of them are on. The lobby’s ceiling is high, a beautiful chandelier dangling from it. The way light flashes and winks off its crystal ornaments is entrancing. 

The floors and walls are all tiled, and two different mosaic patterns are set in the center of the floor and behind the customer service counter on the wall. There are three receptionists on duty right now, one busy with a couple, one with a family of six, and the last with a lone woman. Their voices drift around the room, coupled with the piano music playing softly over a speaker system. 

There is a seating area off to the side arranged in front of a large TV. Some people are sitting there. Hijikata chooses to stand in line and await his turn at check-in.

He sets the duffel bag down and rolls the shoulder that had been carrying it. He loosens his cravat, then decides to pull the thing off, and bends down to stuff it in the bag. 

He isn’t wearing his jacket now for fear of being recognized by the gold pattern it bears. He can’t tell if such a thing as being recognized is adding to his increasing anxiety. The Shinsengumi don’t normally visit the area he’s in right now so there is the possibility that close to no one will know who they are, but he’s on edge enough to overlook that. He is already taking way too big a chance with this gift of his; no way he’s letting other things get him worked up even more. 

He swipes at his bangs and sighs. His heart has been hammering in his chest since he left the barracks and every few minutes he feels physically the way a pulse sends a zing of adrenaline through his upper half. It’s very unpleasant. He knows he won’t be able to get it to go away.

“I can help you, sir!” A voice cuts through the air, cordial and pleasant. Hijikata’s ears follow the sound and he turns to see a young man grinning his way. 

“Ah, yeah--” Hijikata plucks his duffel bag from the tiled floor, this time by the twin small handles instead of the shoulder strap, and shuffles over to the man. 

“Have you pre-registered, sir?” 

“Uh, yeah. I have.” 

“Great, can I please get a phone number?” the man asks. He turns to the computer set in front of him.

Hijikata gives him his cell number, and the man enters it before nodding. “Yup, you’re here. Floor three, room fourteen.” The clerk walks Hijikata through the rest of the process, though he’s barely paying any attention. He is asked to sign a paper for who-knows-what and that’s when he notices the minor tremor in his fingers. He hopes the receptionist didn’t catch it. 

“One night, is that right?”

“I-- yes.”

There’s a wrinkle appearing in the receptionist’s forehead as he nods at Hijikata’s answer.

 _You didn’t say anything wrong,_ he assures himself. _He’s just concentrating._

“All set, sir! Have a good one.”

“You t-- uh.” He coughs into his hand. “Th-thanks.”

Hijikata offers a half-smile to the receptionist’s cheery grin and takes the key card that’s slid across the counter toward him. He grips it tightly as he steps into one of the two service elevators, nearly colliding with an elderly lady in the process of leaving the lift, as if it’s grounding him. It probably is. He can’t tell; he’s trying to divert his own attention by observing the furniture and decor but nothing is sticking except what will unfold in the coming hours. His mind just feels like a jumbled mess, no different from what it’s been all day. He won’t be able to focus if this continues.

He leans against the elevator wall, gently bumping his head and trying to even his breathing. He spots a no-smoking sticker above the pushbuttons. That’s right, hotels don’t allow smoking in any part of the building. 

That won’t be good for his nerves, will it? Hijikata huffs through his nose. Is this where things begin to go downhill?

His phone is in his pocket; he fishes it out to check the time. Almost half past three. Gintoki should arrive a quarter to five, give or take. 

Good. Awesome, he has time. 

_I have time_.

The elevator dings. Someone is standing on the other side, Hijikata sees when the doors slide open with a muted hum. He keeps his head down and quietly brushes past them. They ignore him in turn. He turns left and starts trudging down the hall. 

Did he mention he’s inexperienced in what he’s about to do? As in, he’s never done it before? As in, there never was an opportunity for him to do it to begin with? 

He suspects Gintoki might have knowledge about it since he’s worked at that Saigou person’s bar-club-place multiple times, but he’s the last being Hijikata is going to ask. That’s counterintuitive. 

He cards his fingers through his hair for the nth time. He’s staring at the carpet intently as he walks, trying to make sense of its design. There are yellow swirls and flowers backdropped by a pretty navy color. 

Flowers. Would Gintoki have liked flowers? He makes flower crowns sometimes, says stuff about the China girl liking them. 

No, no, he probably just does that because the kid wants him to. Yeah, Hijikata’s gift is okay. Gintoki would like it. He does stuff for China for her sake, Hijikata is doing this for his sake. He would understand him, wouldn’t he?

He massages the skin under his eyebrows and swallows. This is all very one-sided of him. He’s seeing Gintoki’s gift as some sort of sacrifice on his part, for Gintoki and Gintoki only. He’d taken into account that they both needed to feel good about tonight, and Hijikata’s plans should warrant that. 

_Should._ There’s the downside of his plans. 

To clarify, Gintoki is a very open-minded guy, and he’s definitely crossdressed before himself, but he’s never… done it for Hijikata. To put it bluntly, the idea of wearing clothes of the opposite sex has never been brought up between them. Who knows, maybe Gintoki’s considered it, but if he did, wouldn’t he have mentioned it to Hijikata? The fact that he didn'tgives way to two options: one, the idea never actually entered his mind, and two, he felt Hijikata would not be keen on it and therefore did not want to cause him discomfort. 

Which is fine! And it makes sense, too. And the second reasoning _should_ reassure Hijikata because it implies that Gintoki may be up for crossdressing. 

Does it reassure him? 

No. The opposite, actually. It makes zero sense, but hear him out. 

Yes, Gintoki crossdresses, but it’s the more basic kind, to Hijikata’s knowledge. It’s as simple as wearing those atrocious ponytails, getting his face done, and wearing a female’s top garments and footwear. 

That’s not what Hijikata is aiming to do tonight. It’s more intimate than wearing a woman’s kimono, much more intimate. He’s going--

“--ir? Um. Sir.” 

“Hn?” Hijikata blinks and looks up. A concrete wall not four feet away greets him, covered in a striped beige-colored wallpaper. Hung in the center of the dead-end is an elegantly framed painting. Scenery, Hijikata vaguely observes. Something like a meadow, half surrounded by woods, opening out onto a sparkling lake.

_Oh._

He spins awkwardly on his heel. A young man, probably his age, looks like he’s coming out of his room a few doors down from where Hijikata is. He is very bemused, though Hijikata can tell he’s trying to keep his expression neutral. 

“Is... everything alright, sir?” he asks cautiously.

“Uh.” Hijikata scrambles through the mumbo jumbo that his thoughts have been reduced to. “Yeah, I’m... fine. I was just… ah…” He looks around. There’s a little table pushed against one end of the wide hallway. A candle holder and decorative crystal bowl are sat atop it. 

“Don’t worry about it! I just wanted to see if you were okay,” the man says. “That’s all.”

Hijikata blinks again at him. 

_Say something!_

“Yeah. Thank… thank you.”

The man grins and starts walking away, toward the elevators. “Not a problem! Have a good day!” 

“You too.”

Hijikata stands there dumbly after the man is gone. The muscle in his jaw is soon ticking away, doing that annoying jumping thing that starts up when he is annoyed. 

Why are there so many people he’s bumping into, dammit?!

Alright, he’s wasting time like this. He was room number twelve, right? Thirteen? Where’s his card?

He pats his front pant pockets, feeling the outline of his wallet, cigarette pack, cellphone, and lighter but not the room key. Goddammit. He didn’t drop it, did he?

He peers down the hallway. The card is white on one side with a bold black stripe, but the other side is dark blue, nearly identical to the shade on the carpet. 

Wow. This is… Gintoki’s going to arrive before he’s done getting ready. Is the universe against him today? Is this a sign? Should he ditch his gift and just hang out with Gintoki at the cafe shop all evening? Maybe take a walk and enjoy the night air? It’s not all that scenic because of the buildings in the area but the weather should make up for that, right?

Hijikata looks up and down the hallway again, this time in resignation. He can’t see the room key. Maybe he didn’t check his pockets properly enough…

“Ah,” he mutters as he pulls the card out. Back pocket. Right, his pants have back pockets. 

Room fourteen. Hijikata looks at the number on the door closest to him. Fifty-nine. Is he at the wrong end of the hall?

He shuffles back to the elevator, where there’s a plaque opposite it listing which room numbers were on which side of the hall. One to thirty-one is on the right. 

Okay. 

He finds the room, swiping his card in the scanner and pushing the heavy door open. An earthy smell greets him, pleasant and cool, like freshly cleaned laundry. 

On his immediate right is the bathroom. A few steps away on the left is a sliding door to what he’s assuming is a closet. He opens it, then sets his duffel bag on the ground to remove his vest and uses a wire hanger to leave it on the metal rod spanning the closet. He keeps the duffel there and walks further into the room. 

There’s one bed in the center against the right wall, quite large, enough for maybe three people. It’s more than twice the size of his futon back at the barracks. Good.

Twin nightstands sit on either side of the bed. There’s a lamp on each, and the hotel service telephone on the one farthest from Hijikata. A comfy chair sits in the corner close to the bed. A window is next to it looking out onto the hotel’s front yard. Not much of a view, but maybe he would be able to spot Gintoki when he comes. 

By the left wall is a plain desk, in front of it a swivel chair. _Shoulda brought paperwork_ , Hijikata thinks grimly, but then he remembers that he’s probably never going to get the chance to work tonight. The thought makes him once again very aware of his uneasiness. 

Next to the desk is a dresser. Two columns, four drawers in total. On top of it is a medium-sized television with its remote and a channel guide. By the dresser is a full-length mirror. 

An illustration hangs above the bed’s headboard. It’s abstract, just a bunch of stripes and shapes in different colors. Hijikata doesn’t try to make sense of it. 

He leans against the wall and brings both hands up to massage the sides of his neck. He focuses on his breathing in an attempt to calm himself down, even by just a little. Not once has his pulse slowed since he left the barracks, it’s been hammering away against his ribs all day. Hijikata is willing to bet that his condition is only going to worsen from here on out. 

He looks over at the duffel bag sat innocently by the closet. He can’t keep delaying this, or he won’t have enough time to prepare. 

He unzips the bag, then takes out the button down and the small, thin rectangular box beneath it. It’s completely white, save for the elegant black font on the front declaring the product’s brand name. This is the second time he’s touched it, the first being when it was delivered to him, and then he’d stuffed it in his own closet and pretended it wasn’t there.

Hijikata carries the two items to the bed, gently shaking the shirt so it haphazardly unfolds. He lays them down on the thick comforter, running his fingers over the shirt, fisting the fabric hard enough that his hands shake. The tingling in his chest spreads to his stomach and he clenches his abdomen like that’ll make it go away. 

He unbuttons his cuffs and pulls the shirt he’s wearing over his head. The atmosphere is cool and comfortable, but waves of heat roll down his arms and back. His breaths are coming out shaky. He picks the larger shirt up and… he just freezes. Stops what he’s doing. 

Hijikata swallows, throat gone dry. Holy shit, he’s not sure if he can do this. Everything he’d been telling himself since he first came up with his plan is flung out the window, forgotten, completely irrelevant. He’s not sure where this sudden onslaught of uncertainty has come from, but suddenly he isn’t confident at all about this. What little bit of reassurance he’d been holding on to is gone. 

He and Gintoki had an amazing dynamic. Even before they took this next step together it was obvious. Words were not necessary between them, one could understand the other with something as simple as eye contact. 

This made their relationship less complicated in a way, but that didn’t necessarily resolve everything. And no, they weren’t always joint issues, sometimes _only_ Gintoki or _only_ Hijikata wasn’t happy about something, but they were talked over with little delay because they knew each other well enough to tell when something was off. 

But now… now Hijikata’s gotten so hell-bent on wanting to keep a cool head in front of Gintoki that he’s going to focus too much on it, and Gintoki will figure it all out anyway because of that and everything will get messed up. He’s already acknowledged that he may have to resort to putting up a fake-front when he knows-- he fucking _knows_ \-- there’s no point in that. 

It’s _Gintoki_. Just Gintoki, one of the most empathetic and understanding individuals Hijikata knows, but also Gintoki, the nasty perm head he’s always trying to one-up, be it friendly competition or something serious. 

Hijikata is torn between trying to please both those sides of Gintoki. 

Well... are they really two different sides? 

Fuck, now’s not the time.

He sighs, focusing his mind on the in and out of his diaphragm. That stuff is supposed to be good, right? He doesn’t know, he’s never had issues this bad with his nerves.

Maybe… maybe a shower could help? Showers tend to ease his mind and it’s super convenient for him. 

Yeah, that sounds good. Why didn’t he think of that before? Is he really this overwhelmed?

He pulls the four items in his pant pockets out and places them on the nightstand. He checks the time on his phone and takes note that he needs to hurry the fuck up and stop stalling. 

Hijikata heads to the bathroom. It’s spacious and really nice. The sink is on the left, and the countertop runs the whole way across. The shower is on the opposite side.

He turns the shower’s faucet on so the water’s temperature gets lukewarm, then removes his pants and boxers. He places them on the metal hooks behind the door and steps under the showerhead. 

His whole body jerks under the cold but he forces himself to stay put and let the water warm up. He knows warm water is good for relaxing the muscles and he’s in great need of that right now. 

There are small travel-sized bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. He has his own in his bag. Why didn’t he stop for one goddamn second and think to take them out of his bag? 

It’s alright. This is also fine. 

Hijikata is quick to scrub himself all over and lather shampoo into his hair. He cleans up properly, and when the idea of prepping himself pops into his mind he reluctantly takes it up. If he really thinks about it, it’s selfish of him because he’s only doing it to speed things up later and get it all over with faster. 

Damn. Shit, whatever. It’s okay.

It’s an awkward process; he’s done it to Gintoki but never to himself, but he’s able to tell when to take it easy and when he can take more. Once or twice he accidentally hits his prostate and the full-body jolt nearly makes him slip and fall and maybe even crack his head open. 

He huffs a laugh. What he’s doing right now is so damn surreal to him, but not half as much as his gift. He even feels his cock stir a little but nothing beyond that.

Good. That would _not_ have been pleasant. Or well, it would have, but not in the way he’s thinking. 

The job is a mix of haphazard and careful. Eventually, he thinks he’s stretched enough. He turns the faucet to cool the water and cleans up all over one more time, pressing his wet bangs to the top of his head and scrubbing at his face. 

He shuts the water off and stands there a moment or two to watch the last of the soapy suds accumulate and slip down the drain. Cool air hits Hijikata from all sides and he shudders, reaching for one of the towels stacked on the towel rack near the sink. He dries himself hastily and wraps the towel around his waist, then grabs another, smaller one and goes at his hair. 

He keeps his pants and boxers in the bathroom when he leaves. 

He walks up to the bed again, right where he was not ten minutes ago. He definitely feels better. Physically, at least.

He unbuttons the large shirt and slips his arms in the sleeves, shrugging it onto his shoulders. He leaves the front open.

Okay, there. Part one is done. That wasn’t hard. 

He hesitates when he reaches for the white box, fingers momentarily going rigid again, but he shakes his head and removes the lid. 

The garter’s material is very delicate and thin, so it’s been properly wrapped in tissue paper to avoid damage. Hijikata pushes aside the top layer of tissue and lifts it out of the box, carefully as he can manage, then places it on the bed. Thankfully a pair of boxers came with this set and not the actual female undergarment, though these are noticeably shorter in length than what he typically wears. 

Hijikata unties the towel from his waist and lets it drop to the floor. His movements are still a little jerky but he ignores that in favor of not wanting to discourage himself. He has no wish to confirm it, but he feels if he takes a pause he’ll not want to continue at all.

He slips on the boxers, breath catching in his throat as the material slides against his skin. Coupled with the fact that his skin is still tender from the shower, it feels blissfully soft, strange almost. The boxers fit snugly on him, tighter than what he’s used to but not uncomfortable at all. 

Wow. 

Wow, okay. This… this isn’t that bad.

He picks up the garter belt next, regarding it with dread and curiosity, and maybe bewilderment in the mix. It’s going to be a lot harder to put on than the boxers. 

There is a black stripe of netted lace about twelve centimeters thick in length going across the crotch area. The net makes it mostly transparent, but it’s embroidered with black thread, mostly on the bottom edge, to add design. 

The netting is adorned with bows where it is attached to stockings by two straps that would run down each of his thighs, one on the front and one on the back. The stockings would begin a little above his knees, where there are strips of lace similar to the one above. The stockings’ material feels different from the netting, and it’s more stretchy. 

Hijikata purses his lips observingly. His heart is racing still, more than before, but now that he’s really facing what he’s been fearing all this time it’s more out of exhilaration and an itty boost of confidence. At least, he hopes so. 

Okay. Now he’s... got to... put this on. 

He swallows. He can tell just by looking at it that the material would rip easily. He needs to handle this with extra care because he never really went over a Plan B in case he ruined the garter. 

He sits down at the edge of the bed and starts by pulling the netting on up to his knees. He doesn’t try to adjust the straps just yet and instead focuses on getting the stockings on all the way. He does the left leg first, bunching up the stocking all the way down to the toes so it all fits in his two fists. Then, he gently sticks his foot in and starts pulling it over his ankle, shin, and finally his knee. 

It's like putting on socks. Really long socks. Socks that could tear if he’s not careful. 

He keeps his hands as steady as he could, working slowly and patiently. When he’s done with the left leg he doesn’t care to stop and goes straight to the right leg, doing it the exact same way. 

Hijikata pauses now, shortly, squeezing and unsqueezing his hands into fists. He’s actually shocked at how comfortable the stockings feel. He was suspecting they would be itchy but they’re nice and snug, neither tight nor loose, and they hug his calves without being stretched to the limit. Good. He doesn’t want to feel stiff in them. 

He stands up cautiously, then paces a little bit to see if the stockings stretch or threaten to rip. They don’t.

Wow, okay. This is good. He’s doing it!

He stays standing while he adjusts the netting onto his hips. It’s stretchy, and it fits wonderfully enough that they don’t slip or pinch his skin. The straps fall a bit short so he has to adjust the clasps but that’s about the only issue. 

Done.

Well, not really. He needs to see how they look on him in case anything needs fixing. 

Oh, God, he has to see himself wearing the garter. 

Yeesh, okay. That shouldn’t be hard. It’s just himself. He isn’t getting scared to look at himself in the mirror now, is he?

He walks to the mirror and adrenaline spikes through him like never before this week. Usually, it was just this sensation blooming in his chest and not moving beyond, but now it feels like he’s downed a glass of super fizzy soda and it’s all spreading to his extremities. His fingers jerk not on his own volition and a wave of heat tingles down his spine. 

He steps in front of his reflection, forcing his eyes to his legs. God, he feels so awkward, not being comfortable with his own body. He didn’t care for its appearance _too_ much, he would just make sure it stayed in shape. He never developed insecurities about it and didn’t really think it possible for him to, not until now.

But seeing himself in the oversized shirt, and in the contrasting black garter, wasn’t half as awful as he expected it to be. He looked… he looked nice. Good. Not bad. 

Not bad at all. 

He breathes out unsteadily. A cigarette might have helped here. 

He inspects the garter, then sits down in front of the mirror to work on the stockings. The fabric is folded over in a few places and that comes as a bit of a surprise to him; he was expecting it to appear too constricting and a lot less breathable. 

He’s glad. He _feels_ glad. This is going worlds more smoothly than he was hoping it to and that is such a relief. Honestly, he should’ve just tried it on earlier when he’d received the garter and stockings. The barracks weren’t all that private but he definitely could have figured something out to spare himself so much fucking anxiety.

Okay, now he’s really done. It looks fine. Great, even. He walks back and forth in front of the mirror and even stretches his legs to see if the fabrics still hold and they do. They feel good and look good. 

Nice. 

_All done. That wasn’t so hard, was it?_

Hijikata allows himself a small, self-assuring smile. He’s calmed down considerably and though he still does feel restless, it’s easier to ignore. 

He walks back to the bed and closes the box to stash it back in his duffel bag, then picks up the towel from the floor and takes it to the bathroom to leave it there on the towel rack. He grabs his trousers and boxers from behind the door as well as his normal-sized button-down and brings them to the closet. He hangs his shirt, then drops his boxers in the large plastic bag on one of the hangers that’s labeled “LAUNDRY.” 

He pulls on his pants, slowly and mindful of what else he’s wearing, then closes the front of his shirt and tucks it into the pants. He can’t really tell that it’s oversized, and he confirms this in front of the mirror. If he’s just being generous with himself, that shouldn’t be a problem because he’ll have the vest on and that might cover up any hints of the size. Well, maybe the arms would look a little disproportionate, but whatever.

There isn’t anything left for him to do but wait. He sits down on the bed and flips his cellphone open to check the time. Gintoki should be by any minute. 

Oh. Right. Gintoki’s coming.

Hijikata leans back to settle against the pillows. They’re super soft and… squishy. They compress easily under a weight. He’s not a fan of pillows that do that. 

Hijikata peers up at the ceiling. It’s off-white, plain. It reminds him of what he stares at when he has trouble sleeping back in his room. Come to think of it, that’s how it’s been all week. Hijikata didn’t know how much he could overthink if a big enough problem arose and he’d frankly blown himself away. Now that he’s gotten the hard portion of his gift over with, he’s a lot more relaxed, though he’s trying not to remind himself that today is far from over. 

He hasn’t even seen Gintoki yet. No, _that’s_ the real hard part. Being composed and self-assured around his own self barely means anything, especially since he still doesn’t fully feel that way. 

What can he do now, though? Stare at himself in the mirror some more? Try to forget about what he’s got on underneath his pants? Take a walk in the hallway outside?

God no, he’s just going to bump into someone all over again and embarrass the crap out of himself. And there’s the chance that the someone will be Gintoki, which will be even worse. Or, well, it won’t be _bad_ per se, because he’s waiting for Gintoki to show up anyway, but… _urgh_ , he lost his train of thought. 

Hijikata sighs and rolls onto his stomach, cheek squished against the bedsheets. There’s a dull ache down somewhere below his ribs and it’s only making itself known now. He’s glad it isn’t something like nausea; that would be terrible. He doesn’t do well with nausea at all. 

...What's taking Gintoki so long? Bastard doesn’t even have a cellphone so Hijikata could contact him. He’d told the receptionist that Gintoki would be sharing the hotel room with him, and he’d told Gintoki to give his name at the counter when he checked in. Did the idiot forget?

Hijikata blinks and turns onto his back again. 

Does… does he really want Gintoki to come? Now that he’s tried the garter and stockings on, it's much easier for him to verify that his unease stemmed from Gintoki’s opinion of him wearing them and not the garments themselves. Yes, he’s feeling better and more pleased, but it’s far from his natural state of mind. 

God, what the hell is going on in his head? Why does he feel good about himself one moment and awful the next? Why is he at peace and then suddenly frenzied? 

Hijikata closes his eyes and breathes in. There isn’t much he can do at this point. He’ll just have to hang on to the fact that he genuinely looks pretty decent in this get-up and that there’s a chance for him to recover his dignity should things go way down south. 

Lord have mercy, he wants to smoke so badly.

He’s about to reach for his phone again to check the time when he hears a knock. 

Hijikata is not exaggerating when he says every muscle in his body locks up. He was already teetering on the edge of the bed so he falls, landing on his right arm on the ground with a pained grunt. 

“ _Fuck_ , goddammit.” Gintoki knocks again. “I’m _coming_ , asshat, will you quit that?!”

He stumbles to the door with little finesse. He undoes the deadbolt and ah, there’s the root cause of his week-long anxiety.

“Yo.” Gintoki brings a hand up in a wave. He is occupied with a duffel bag almost identical to Hijikata’s own save for the color. 

Shit, okay, he needs to try and act natural now.

“Hey.” Hijikata steps aside to let Gintoki in, then shuts the door behind him and momentarily rests his forehead on the cool, lacquered wood. Fuck, he can do this.

“Whoa, not bad!”

Hijikata’s heart leaps into his throat. He wheels around to see Gintoki setting his bag down beside his own, back turned to him. 

_He means the room, dumbass. Pull yourself together._

“What, were you expecting less?”

“Eh? No, no. Just.” Gintoki turns around and grins at him. Hijikata’s heart does one of those annoying flutter things. “Thanks.”

“I-- d-don’t mention it.”

“No, seriously. I really appreciate you doing this, Hijikata.” 

What is Gintoki going on about so suddenly? All he’s seen is the hotel room. 

...Would this be enough, then? Can he just excuse himself to the bathroom right now and take the garter and everything off? 

But damn, were Gintoki’s expectations _this_ low?

“Hey.” 

Hijikata looks up. Since when was he looking down?

Gintoki is looking at him, poise relaxed, the opposite of Hijikata’s rigid posture.

“C’mere,” Gintoki says, and Hijikata wordlessly obeys, walking up to and stopping in front of him. He flinches in surprise when Gintoki slowly reaches up to gently cradle his face with both hands but he recovers. He closes his own fingers around Gintoki’s wrists and lightly squeezes his carpals when the other pulls his face closer.

Gintoki’s lips are soft and plump, unlike his chapped ones. They feel good, and Hijikata lets himself push harder into the kiss, catching onto Gintoki’s bottom lip between his own. Gintoki stumbles backward a little and makes a small noise in the back of his throat. 

They break apart. Pulse racing, Hijikata slits his eyes open to see Gintoki watching him closely. There is something in his gaze that’s not normally there. Bewilderment?

Gintoki leans forward and pecks Hijikata again, once, twice, then he licks his upper lip and Hijikata opens right up. 

Gintoki tastes sweet, like he was chewing bubble gum not long ago. The familiarity is grounding. Hijikata sighs when Gintoki’s tongue slides against his own, wet and hot, also admittedly familiar. 

He pulls away, and his thought process stops completely when Gintoki plants a smooch right on his nose. His cheeks go hot against Gintoki’s palms. 

“What the h-hell?”

Gintoki shrugs happily and steps away, turning his back to Hijikata again. “You really registered for overnight?”

Hijikata finishes swiping at his nose. “Yeah.”

“Nice.” Gintoki toes off his boots and promptly climbs onto the bed face-down. 

“ I even told you to pack your pajamas and everything. You seriously thought I reserved the room for just a few hours?”

“Well.” Gintoki rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling for a few seconds, then glances at him. “Kinda?”

Oh.

Shit, wait, that’s… that’s not good at all. 

Hijikata’s lips press into a thin line, then he says, “What--” He coughs into his fist. “What made you think that?”

“Hm? I dunno. I guess I…” Hijikata catches the way the corners of Gintoki’s lips turn down, “thought you… never mind.”

_Never mind?_

Should he let it go? Hijikata doesn’t take his eyes off of Gintoki's face. It’s gone neutral again but that little frown had failed to escape his notice. 

He momentarily clenches his hands into fists, nails digging prickly little crescents into his palms. 

“Yor-Yorouya.” _Relax! What are you stuttering for?_ “Hold on.”

Hijikata walks up to the foot of the bed and awkwardly climbs on. When he raises his leg he feels the stretch of the stocking’s fabric over his knee, and something clenches in his chest. Gintoki stays where he is and looks at him, and he looks at Gintoki. 

Uh. Now what?

“Do you…” No, no. Where is he going with that? He tries again. “I mean, why’d you... think that?”

“'That?'”

“Y-yeah. Why’d you think I would… I would half-ass this?”

Gintoki says nothing. He sits up, crossing his legs and facing Hijikata fully, a sign that he’s willing to take him seriously. 

Their bodies aren’t far apart-- Hijikata can reach out and muss Gintoki’s hair if he wanted to-- but the gap is oddly symbolic. And he should try to fill it in, build that much-needed bridge between themselves. But goddamn, he’s _way_ too socially awkward to do that. It’s no wonder he’s always letting Gintoki make the first move. 

“Well,” Gintoki starts, then his shoulders droop-- _barely_ , almost not at all, but Hijikata’s on high alert and his eyes dart to the subtle movement (or maybe Hijikata’s imagining things, who knows) _\--_ and he blinks, then breaks eye contact. It isn’t the bashful kind, but more like he’s suddenly feeling... uncomfortable?... which is way worse. Hijikata has the awful feeling that Gintoki is trying to get him to understand him through his body language.

No, fuck that. What did Kondo always say? “Communication is key?” It didn’t matter if much communication wasn’t needed when it came to Hijikata and Gintoki. That didn’t… make them an exception. And given how fucking awkward the atmosphere has become no thanks to himself, the aforementioned does go for them as well. 

Now hold on, he didn’t do anything wrong here. Sometimes being uncomfortable is good, right? Stepping out of the comfort zone and everything. Keeping things how they are is not going to get them anywhere. It’ll be unhealthy, in fact. They can’t just “whatever” their way through this like they’ve been doing all this time. 

He’s not going to try and turn this into something dramatic either, because that is not what it is. They’re not about to take their relationship to yet a higher pitch, this is something much smaller, albeit essential to the foundation of relationships in general. 

Seriously though, why did it take something as basic as one or two sentences from Gintoki for Hijikata to want to slam his fist down and demand a talk? Why couldn’t he have done that while planning Gintoki’s birthday gift? Or when said gift came in the mail? Or… or a short while ago when he was falling in that endless pit of anxiety? He’s not climbed out yet, definitely not, but at least he’s stopped going with the flow and is trying to stand his (very shaky, as in likely to crumble any second) ground. 

Hijikata swallows and straightens his spine in resolution. “No, hey. Look at me and talk.” He frowns. “You can’t just look away and expect me to understand.”

‘Eh?” Gintoki’s eyebrows lift. “What’s this all of a sudden? You’re finally acknowledging you’re dense?” 

“Huh?” It throws him off, but then he gets it and his frown morphs into an all-out glare. “No! I’m not even dense!”

“Pfft!” Gintoki brings a derisive hand to his mouth. “Wow! You’re so dense you don’t realize you’re dense. But then... aren’t those two supposed to cancel out? Or something like tha--”

“Who taught you that shitty logic?”

“No one! That’s like… that’s like asking who taught you to be so dense--”

“Hah?!”

“--but being dense isn’t really learned, is it? That stuff’s congenital--”

“What are you sa--”

“Congenital’s a funny word.”

Hijikata stares dumbly at Gintoki when he finishes, then quickly catches on and grows furious. He’s trying to change the subject, dammit!

“I know what you’re doing, shithead!”

“Me?” Gintoki scratches his ear. “What am I doing?”

“Stop trying to change the subject! Shut up and answer my question!”

Gintoki opens his mouth, then shuts it and leans back onto his hands. He’s doing that dumb half-smile thing. It reminds Hijikata of a child up to no good.

Some beats of silence fill the space and Hijikata feels his eyebrow begin to twitch irritably.

“Oi, won’t you say anything?”

“You said to shut up!”

God, what a fucking kid.

“You _know_ what I meant, dumbass,” Hijikata says. “Are you avoiding my question?”

“Hm? No.”

“Then take me seriously! Say something!”

“Something!” Gintoki just about chirps, and Hijikata wants to punch him.

“Fuckin’ hell. Fine then, I… I’ll...” 

He’ll what? Beat him up? Cancel the room’s registration? Pull the blackmail card because that usually works? 

But how? They’re in a completely different setting than what they’re used to, he can’t threaten to slice the fridge plug wiring in half and get Gintoki’s strawberry milk spoiled. 

Hijikata’s cell phone rings, loud and, in a weird way, invasive. 

What awful timing. 

He slides off the bed-- a little more aggressively than he normally would but whatever, maybe Gintoki will get the hint that he’s pissed if he hasn’t already-- to the nightstand and picks it up. The netting at his hips gets folded over when he stands up but he doesn’t think he can fix it without Gintoki catching him; he can feel the other’s eyes on his back when he turns away from him. 

“Hijikata speaking.”

It’s the cafe. 

His breath catches, free hand curling into a fist and clenching the fabric of his trousers. Fuck, it completely slipped his mind! 

“I was calling to confirm your reservation,” a lady says politely over the line. “Five o’clock PM, correct?”

“Ah… yeah, five.” He slowly loosens his fist. He’s actually not sure, he can’t even remember the time he told them and that shocks him. Thank God the cafe contacted him.

“Wonderful! We hope to see you soon, then, Hijikata-san!”

“Likewise. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Hijikata can hear the smile in her voice.

He kills the line and automatically his teeth start gnawing the inside of his cheek. That’s another weird habit he’d started this week. It’d caused one or two of those nasty sores to develop in his mouth and they aren’t fully healed yet.

“What’s at five, eh?” Gintoki asks. “Something for me?”

Hijikata lets go of the flesh between his canines and turns to Gintoki, tongue running over the area to soothe the minor sting. 

“Ohhh, you ordered room service for five o’clock! Am I right?” Gintoki’s eyes swiftly rove over his face, and Hijikata gives it his all to keep it neutral. 

“If the hotel wanted to call me they would’ve used the room phone,” he says, pointing behind Gintoki. “So no. I didn’t order room service.” He crosses his arms over his chest and subtly thrusts his hips to the side, leaning all his weight on his left leg. He can feel the netting dig lightly into the skin now at his hip bone and his heart does its stupid pitter-patter thing it’s been doing all day. He ignores it. 

“What, you hungry?”

Gintoki’s eyebrows fly up. “For sure. Haven’t eaten since morning.”

A beat passes, in which Hijikata squints at Gintoki. 

“Do you have food at home?” 

“‘Course I do. Gin-san always does.”

“Really?” The corner of Hijikata’s lips turn up in an unfriendly smile. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh?” Gintoki looks affronted. “And who’s trying to change the subject now, ah?”

Hijikata’s little smirk drops. “Huh? I-- that… that wasn’t intentional!”

“Sure it wasn’t.” 

Hijikata grinds his jaw, a counter at the ready, but then Gintoki perks up and asks, “What time is it right now?”

“It--” He flips open his cell phone. “It's four forty-five,” he sighs. 

“We should hurry then! Don’t wanna... miss the thing at five.”

“Ah, yeah.” He shoves his phone in his pocket and looks at Gintoki (who he knows is baiting him, but he’s not going to take it!). “We still need to ta--”

“Hey, just forget it.”

“Eh?” Hijikata tenses and his shoulders pinch up. 

“I said forget it,” Gintoki says. He gets off the bed. “I didn’t mean anything when I said that thing from earlier.”

No, there is no way. Why did Gintoki even try?

“Bullshit.”

“Huh?”

“You… I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Hijikata’s fists clench. He can’t answer that. Is there a concrete reason he can give to Gintoki? 

He licks his lips. “You’re... brushing it off. But I… don’t want you to.”

Gintoki blinks at him. He’s confused.

“Y’know what?” Hijikata plops down on the bed. Poor thing’s sheets are probably messed up from how much they’re moving on it. Firmly, he says, “We aren’t leaving ‘til you open up.”

“Leaving? So we’re going out, huh?”

“Sit down, asshat,” Hijikata says and roughly pats the space next to him.

“Oi, oi, what is this? What’s gotten you so pressed all of a sudden?”

“Nothing, just sit.”

Gintoki doesn’t listen. Hijikata doesn’t know what face he’s making because his eyes are glued to the wall behind Gintoki. It’s a dead giveaway to just how confident he’s really feeling right now. Gintoki probably thinks he can break his resolve. He might, actually. 

God, he needs a smoke.

“Hijika--”

“Just _listen_ , okay?” He glances at Gintoki then goes back to staring at the wall. He looks lost, really confused. Hijikata doesn’t blame him; he knows _why_ he’s getting the Yorozuya to talk to him but he’s not one hundred percent sure if this is the proper way to go about doing it. He’s just as lost as Gintoki.

Socially awkward, indeed. 

Hijikata breathes out when Gintoki finally moves, shuffling over to sit beside him. He watches the other ball his hands into fists on his knees then quickly unclench them.

“Okay. So, um. What was the question again?”

“Why…” Hijikata starts, then gulps. “Why did you think I’d half-ass this?” Partially, he thinks he has it figured out, but if what he’s guessing is correct, he wouldn’t know what to make of it. It wouldn’t make sense for Gintoki to think that way, but nothing else is coming to mind. 

Fuck. Scratch all that bullshit about them not needing to communicate.

“Ah! Right,” Gintoki says, beaming, then he falls silent. 

God, this is so awkward! Neither of them even wants to talk. Why couldn’t he have at least thought this through before flinging himself into this situation and tugging Gintoki along?

Their shoulders are touching, just barely. Hijikata nudges Gintoki there and, as if he’d been switched on, he opens his mouth again. 

“Okay, just.” He taps his fingers against his thighs. “I feel like you already know what I’m going to say.”

“Bastard, you _better_ not say what I think you’ll say.”

Gintoki huffs, though he’s not amused. “I mean… yeah, it’s probably what you’re thinking.” 

Fuck, dammit, that communication bullshit apparently isn’t actually bullshit.

“Right. Alright.” Hijikata clears his throat. “I mean… okay, yeah, I…”

He goes quiet. What does he even say to this?

“So… you already know what I’m gonna tell you. Problem solved!” Gintoki exclaims and stands up. “Can we go now?”

“No! No, we need to… I need to clear things up for you. You shouldn’t have thought I wouldn’t care for your birthday as much as you did for mine.”

Gintoki’s eyebrows fly up. “Ah, so this is just paying me back?”

Hijikata physically flinches at the way his heart seems to constrict, like a rubber band was squeezing it tight in the middle. “No, n-no! It’s not.”

Yes, it is. 

Shit, yes it _is_ , and Hijikata hadn’t even realized the bomb he’d dropped. Why did he even mention his own birthday, that shouldn’t have anything to do with this! He’s been telling himself that all week, to stop thinking of doing this out of consideration or… or recompensation like Gintoki just said. 

He goes hot all over in embarrassment. 

Why did he fuck up so early on? Why can’t he keep his own mouth shut? Gintoki’s been here for what, fifteen minutes? Not even, and he already wishes there was a way to undo all that’d happened and try again.

Fuck, a cigarette would be absolutely wonderful right now. He’s starting to believe he’s not the same person without one.

“Hey, it’s okay. That doesn’t matter to me, Hijikata. You’re fine.”

He hears Gintoki but the words fly clean over his head, enough that he doesn’t catch the subtle change in inflection that reveals what his actions have really done. 

Composed, he needs to stay composed! Why can’t he ever be convincing when he wants to be?

“No, Yorozuya, listen.” He licks his lips. “God, j-just listen. Here, sit back down.”

He’s surprised when Gintoki obeys immediately. Good, Hijikata doesn’t know how he’d react if he didn’t.

“Okay, first of all… first of all, this might o-offend you,” Hijikata says, then he shifts his body to make eye contact He needs to be _honest_ , no matter how badly he wants to deny everything, because lying will get him nowhere if not in even deeper shit. Maybe he’d do a better job at fibbing had he expected this situation beforehand and had time to piece together something believable, but he’s still reeling from what he’d just said. “But yeah, you… you’re kinda right. And I… it, that’s...”

“Hiji--”

“Shut up!” Hijikata snaps, then sighs like he’s tired. “Just... be quiet. Let me talk, dammit.”

“If this is ab--”

“I said be _quiet_ , didn’t I?”

“Look, this isn’t going well. I can tell, Hijikata, that you’re getting too agitated right now. How ‘bout we leave for whatever place we need to go, and you can think while we walk or something? ‘N then we’ll talk a little later?”

“I--”

“Hijikata.”

Gintoki reaches forward and takes Hijikata’s face in his palm. His skin is cool, and Hijikata becomes conscious of the fact that his face may as well be on fire from how hot it’s gotten. 

“Jeez, you really are burning up!” Gintoki snickers. “You should see yourself right now, I don’t think you’ve ever been this red in the face ‘n that’s saying something.”

_He’s trying to calm you down._

But he doesn’t want to be calmed down. Or well, he needs to calm down, but not by Gintoki and his dumb voice. What happened to his handle on the situation? It’d just about evaporated and that’s all his own doing. 

“Hijikata,” Gintoki calls once more. 

“Can you… why aren’t you--”

“I said to let it go, Hijikata. I think I know what you’re trying to do, and I understand, okay? We’ll talk it out properly after we’ve eaten, or something. Or if you’ve had a cig, I don’t think you’re very sane without smoke in your lungs.”

Hijikata glares at him, and Gintoki lopsidedly grins back. Hijikata wants to wipe it off his face. “You’re fucking hilarious, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh.” Gintoki stops cradling his cheek and steps away, toward the door. Hijikata thinks of a last-ditch attempt but… he closes his eyes and sighs. 

He needs a damn cigarette.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm nearly done with the second part so hopefully, it'll be up soon. Honestly, I'll have to see if that needs to be split into two as well.
> 
> Plz bear with me for the smut though!! I'm still learning :D


End file.
